


empty words

by theleftboobgrabber



Series: Tumblr fics [9]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Soft Eddie Diaz, Soft Evan "Buck" Buckley, Tumblr Prompt, buck knows poetry, flustered Eddie Diaz, shakespeare is somehow involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:42:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24637009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theleftboobgrabber/pseuds/theleftboobgrabber
Summary: prompt was: Buck becoming an expert in Shakespeare after Eddie mentioning that he was having trouble helping Chris get ready for a school play. Buck recites some to Eddie before they kiss for the 1st time“What don’t you get?” Buck asks and fucking shit why? Why does Eddie have to feel the tickle of his breath against his cheek and be… affected by it? Why?!His shoulder tense, and it has nothing to do with his reading material. “This… poetry crap.”Eddie winces. The problem isn’t the poetry, but how little he cares or understands it. He’s… not a man of many words. Of any words, if he can help it. Actions speak louder than all that fancy, flowery shit that means nothing at the end of the day. Anyone can quote poetry, but there’s a reason it's called sweet nothing. Pretty words, borrowed words, empty words. It’s all the same. They just sound good and don’t have to be meant.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Series: Tumblr fics [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/446650
Comments: 67
Kudos: 345





	empty words

“I don’t get this-” Eddie breaths dejectedly, slapping his hand on the page he’s been reading for ten minutes without absorbing anything. There’s something about old timey theater that makes him feel dumb- or like he’s having a stroke. English sure used to be weird.

Buck is immediately in his space, glued to him shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh on the couch, face waaaaay too close to Eddie’s as he peers down at the English manual he took from Christopher’s bag for the night. 

“What don’t you get?” Buck asks and fucking shit _why?_ Why does Eddie have to feel the tickle of his breath against his cheek and be… _affected by it?_ Why?! 

His shoulders tense, and it has nothing to do with his reading material. “ _This_ … poetry crap.”

Eddie winces. The problem isn’t the poetry, but how little he cares or understands it. He’s… not a man of many words. _Of any words_ , if he can help it. Actions speak louder than all that fancy, flowery shit that means nothing at the end of the day. Anyone can quote poetry, but there’s a reason it's called sweet nothing. Pretty words, borrowed words, empty words. It’s all the same. They just sound good and don’t have to be meant.

Words like _I love you, let’s be a family again_. Words like _I want you back_. Pretty words that made him believe, that made him hope. That deceived him.

So when Chris had got home this afternoon with an assignment to read some theater pieces from Shakespeare (the non gory, non sexual part, just the lovey dovey crap that people quoted in their wedding vows) Eddie had not been ecstatic about it.

Buck looks down at the manual for a second, pulling a face. “Romeo and Juliet? Isn’t Chris a little young for that?”

Eddie huffs, flipping the book to the cover and gestures at the _third grade English_ printed there in colorful font. “Apparently they’re doing age appropriate versions,” he says. Small mercy.

Buck nods, frowning at the same time, before he turns the full force of his fucking blue eyes to Eddie’s. “So what don’t you get?”

“The whole- the whole thing. It’s stupid anyway. The grammar is weird, the stories are wacky as hell and- Why didn’t Romeo and Juliet go to the prince and say _hey we love each other but our parents will never approve so publicly force them to marry us to end the feud so it’s a win-win situation?_ " he rants. 

High school Eddie had been bored out of his mind reading this, but the girls had been eating it up, so he had forced himself to care a tiny bit.

(He did get laid, so perhaps, Shakespeare wasn’t that bad)

Buck’s silent beside him and when Eddie turns his head, he’s so, so close that it’s almost indecent how red and just there his lips are. It takes a moment -too damn long, and too… damning, shit- for Eddie to look up from Buck’s lips to his eyes. His eyebrows are high and he looks amused.

“ _What?_ ”

“For someone that hates this, you sure have strong opinions about it,” Buck says with a smile and in one swift movement, he takes the manual from Eddie’s limp hands (Buck’s smile, this close, it’s making him a bit weak okay? a bit helpless and soft and needy and- _shit_ ). Buck focuses on the book, shuffling through the pages until he finds something, triumphant smile and all. “Midsummer Night’s Dream is better. All the Puck stuff is fun and Chris will stand out for not going with the teenage drama all the other parents will pick for familiarity’s sake.”

And Eddie melts at that, heat hammering in his chest. The station, Hen and Chim, the rest of the world melts too, reshaping something Eddie’s been yearning for so long now it’s a whole part of him by now. He can see it clear as day, feel it, warmed to the bones and happy. Him and Buck in _their hous_ e, on _their couch_ , talking about _their kid_.

Buck’s too good at this, at making Eddie wants for things he has no rights to ask for. Hell, even if he did, he doesn’t… he doesn’t have the words for it. Talking is hard -talking about feeling? harder. 

“Midsummer what- wait, like the movie we watched last month? With the creepy Swedes that sacrifice people?!” Eddie shouts.

He can still feel the disgust and sticky uneasiness of watching that movie.

 _We’re not watching another Disney movie_ , he had said. _Horror?_

Buck had answered with a grin. _Fuck yeah!_

The grin hadn’t not stayed long. Sick fascination was the only reason he and Buck went through the entire movie… (and to prove they were grown men that didn’t get creeped out that easily, but that they’re not admitting to anyone).

His shouts makes Buck winces and from the corner of his eyes, he can see Chim and Hen at the kitchen table turn their way with a _what the fuck is wrong with you boys?_ written on their faces.

“No, no!” Buck placates, shoving the manual under Eddie’s face, long finger tapping frantically at the picture of a fairy near the texts. “It’s fantastical! Whimsy! With gods and fairies and mischief.”

Which, yeah, makes more sense. “Oh. okay.”

“There,” Buck gives back the manual, laughing now. “I barely could sleep after that movie, I’m not subjecting a nine year old to the book version.”

“So… you know Shakespeare,” he says, because Buck knows lots of things, but Eddie wouldn’t have pegged him as a theater nerd.

Buck shrugs, but he has never been good at keeping his feelings to himself. His blush is quite telling. “I was bored outta my mind that summer. Maddie had left for college in freaking June and everyone I knew had left with their parents. It was that or going to Bingo with my Granny every afternoon for three months.”

“Oooh, I bet they all wanted to pinch your cheeks,” Eddie chuckles.

Buck looks _haunted_. “My ass rather.”

Eddie stays silent for a moment. “For real?”

Buck nods. “Old ladies have no boundaries and Gran would have sold me for one more bingo card like that,” he says, snapping his fingers. “You see why I preferred the library right?”

“Yep. Plus, you can just quote dumb poetry at girls now,” Eddie jokes trying to lighten the mood, but it comes out sour.

Buck frowns, taking his distance. _It’s an inch_. A goddamn inch, just his face and his shoulders reeling an inch back, but Eddie feels it acutely.

“Okay, first off, it’s not dumb,” Buck retorts, looking… hurt. _Shit_. “Second, you are so out of the loop you really think girls I used to hook up with would have been impressed by me quoting The Tempest at them?”

Eddie shallows back the first thing he wants to say (“with a face like yours, I doubt you really had to do anything before panties went flying”). He also swallows the second thing he wants to say, (“I could listen to you talk about anything as long as you continue smiling like you did, you’re so radiant when you’re excited about something”).

He ends up gaping a little. Useless. Wordless. 

“Uh. What’s- uh, what’s The Tempest?” he hears himself mumbles.

Buck gives him a look, and sometimes, despite Buck being an open book to Eddie, the way he looks at Eddie is completely baffling. Like- Like he knows something that Eddie doesn’t, like he’s waiting for Eddie to figure out, like he’s getting annoyed but can’t quite stay that way. Baffling.

“ _Hear my soul speak:_

_The very instant that I saw you did_

_My heart fly to your service, there resides_

_to make me slave to it, and for your sake_

_Am I this patient log-man_ ,” Buck recites, eyes not leaving Eddie’s, but he does choke a little, stumbling on the words here and there and when he’s done, he looks away.

Eddie just stares at him. Useless. Wordless.

“Damn Buckaroo, if I had known you could dish that out, I might have been tempted to switch Buckleys,” Chim jokes, fanning himself dramatically.

_And, what?_

Eddie is a little overwhelmed, even if a lot of that went above his head. What the ever loving fuck was that?

Buck is now blushing furiously and quickly stands up, startling Eddie. He points a finger to Chim, “I’m telling Maddie!” he warns.

“ _Farewell, farewell. One kiss, and I’ll descend_ ,” Chim cackles through the quote, hand on his heart, pretending to dramatically faint against Hen.

“Oh shut up, Chim, you’re ruining it,” Hen admonishes once Buck has disappeared in the bunk room, leaving Eddie staring after him in confusion.

“No, ma’am, Eddie ruined it first,” Chim complains.

His head wipes around to look at them. “What? I didn’t- I’m not-”

_What is happening? Why is he feeling so warm and babbling- because, what Buck said-_

Chim shakes his head and makes a disgusted _urgh_ , not even watching Eddie. “Can you believe Buckaroo put his big boy pants and quoted a love declaration at Eddie for him to just blink helplessly at him?” 

“A- _A what?_ ” Eddie stammers, palms sweaty and he gently puts the English manual down on the coffee table in front of him, because there was something about heart speaking- no, soul! and- oh God, being patient and a slave to… and something about love at first sight or some fucking shit Eddie didn’t believe in but- “Did he-”

“Told you he was hopelessly devoted to you and your happiness from the moment you guys met? Yep, he did,” Chim says without a hint of mockery in his tone, but somehow still managing to sound revolted he has to spell it out, before biting a celery stick with gusto.

“But-”

“Oh my God Eddie, please go after the man before he dies of mortification in the bunk room,” Hen orders.

Eddie can only nod, heart pounding and shit. 

He rubs his sweaty palms on his uniform pants and does his best to ignore Hen and Chim matching grins when he takes one big, steadying breath (that does shit to calm him down) and he powers walks to the bunk room, because he is a man of action.

 _So I need to act_ , he reminds himself.

Inside the bunk room, a few of his coworkers are fucking around reading or talking or playing on their phones. He stands by the door for a second, clears his throat and _God_ , they all leave, not so discreetly huffing and glancing at the surly shape of Buck hidden under his blanket in the bunk farthest from the door. Someone pats Eddie on the shoulder on their way out, but Eddie’s not paying attention to whom.

He stomps to the bed and tugs at the blanket, expecting resistance, but Buck lets it fly away from him, only keeping his eyes stubbornly close.

“No,” is all Buck says and fuck, he’s still blushing from cheeks to neck, delightful pink on his skin, and Eddie needs to investigate how far down it goes on his chest under his uniform shirt with his mouth and his hands and- shit. He’s getting ahead of himself.

“Now you don’t have any more words?” he asks him, first curling around the blanket not in anger, but to repress his need to touch Buck like he’s been wanting to for ages.

Buck turns around, facing the other way and _damn it_. “I’ve made a mess enough-”

“You didn’t make a mess,” Eddie cuts, because they don’t have time for the miscommunication song and dance right now, “not your fault I don’t know poetry and stuff.”

Buck shrugs, self loathing and embarrassment radiating from him.

Eddie sits down, careful to not touch him even if the bed isn’t that large, keeping his hands to himself. “Thank you. For helping with Chris. _For always helping with Chris_. And me. God. You’re always helping me. Do you know how-” Eddie stops, choking on the words. Not for the first time in his life, he wishes he was fluent in this… emotional bullshit he’s always messing up. Silently, but with a lot of heart, he curses his father. “Do you know how hard it is not to- not to kiss you when you just show up for us? ‘cause it’s fucking hard Buck.”

He sighs. _Fuck fuck fuck_ , what if he misread, what if Chim and Hen were pulling his leg, what if-

Buck turns around, and he’s not even trying to hide the raw hope on his face, his astonishment at Eddie’s words.

“I never know what to do. What to say. I’m not good at this,” Eddie confesses. “But I have… feelings. For you.”

Buck’s voice is so weak when he speaks, Eddie can barely hear him. “You do?”

“What, you think I give the key to my house to anyone? That I fall asleep on anyone’s shoulder? That I trust anyone else like I trust you? Feelings. I have them.”

He can hear his Junior year English teacher sarcastically comment, _Very eloquently put_ , _Eddie_ from across time and space and the entire class laughing.

Buck gapes at him for a moment. “That’s- uh, that’s good.”

They stay stupidly silent for a moment, staring at each other, useless to the bone the both of them.

“Can you say it again?” he asks, and he can feel the blush spreading on his face, just like he can feel the weight of Buck’s eyes on him, biting his lip as he looks at Eddie like he _wants_ as much as Eddie does.

Buck blinks at him. “What?”

“The- The Tempest stuff. That you said.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, _oh_.”

Buck does -or he tries. Eddie cuts him when he’s at _my heart fly at you service_. With his mouth.

_Oh my God I’m kissing my best friend. I’m kissing Buck. Who has feelings for me. OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY-_

Eddie’s the one surprised though, a small gasp escaping him when Buck immediately reciprocate, his hands tugging Eddie down with him on the bed, kissing him and kissing him and kissing him until Eddie’s not sure if he’s still breathing or if he’s dreaming or-

“It’s not empty words,” Buck breaths against his lips, gentle fingers on his cheek.

Eddie nods, dead, raptured, gone to heaven and shoved back ruthlessly into his body. “I know. You- I know.” _All the things you do. All the care. All the time_. “I know.”

***

“I’ve been told you guys are and I quote _reading poetry_. I don’t know what that’s a euphemism for, but you better be decent and ready for dinner in five minutes,” Bobby says firmly through the door.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> If you loved it, kudos and comments are ALWAYS a good way to show it, here, on [tumblr](http://theleftboobgrabber.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/AngryGuii)! Check my [fic tag](https://theleftboobgrabber.tumblr.com/tagged/w) for updates and rambling :)
> 
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